


we make a lovely mess

by ArtjuiceRP



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Abortion, F/M, Kind of fluffy, Not a heavy fic, considering the topic, just two people talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 13:59:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10247966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtjuiceRP/pseuds/ArtjuiceRP
Summary: It didn't take long for Rory to decide what she wanted to do, but it wasn't easy when the only person she wanted to talk to about it had said goodbye to her weeks before.





	

She wanted to call him. Lately, she _always_ wanted to call him. Not that it was a new feeling. Even though she no longer called him every time she felt the urge to, she still always got as far as having his number on the screen, his voice only one tap away.

Lorelai kept trying to reassure her that the conversation wouldn't be as bad as she thought it would be, but her mother didn't even know what she wanted to say. It wasn't the contents of the phone call that worried her. She hadn't needed long to come to her own decisions and figure out exactly what she wanted to talk to Logan about.

It was just that if she contacted him, Rory wasn't sure if one phone call would be enough. The finality of their last meeting, as painful as it had been, had been enough to stop her. One phone call and that finality would be gone.

So, for a while, she didn't call. She got on with her life as though nothing was different, as though she didn't have anything she desperately wanted to talk about. Sometimes, she considered talking to others - to her mom, to Lane, to Paris - but she never did. She only wanted to talk to him.

Not that it stopped Lorelai from trying. Her mom was the only person who even knew she was pregnant, and Rory knew her mom wanted to talk about it. Not just with her, but with Luke. Rory made her promise not to tell, that she'd do it herself when she was ready - she'd never be ready, she didn't plan to ever _have_ to be ready - and then tried to change the subject.

A week after she told her mom, she had a date in her calendar (November 29) and a sense of certainty that she hadn't felt in a long time.

But then Thanksgiving came and went, the appointment only days away, and she couldn't keep quiet anymore.

On Saturday morning, once Lorelai had joined Luke at the diner, she called Logan.

He answered almost immediately. "Rory? I wasn't expecting… Is something wrong?"

"I know I shouldn't be calling, but-" She choked, struggling to get the words out. "My life's been a mess lately and I didn't want to talk to anyone about it but you. And I know I shouldn't have called. Not when there's Odette and we'd said goodbye and… I missed not talking to you."

Logan was quiet for a few seconds and then she heard him swallow. "I've missed that too."

She smiled, took a few deep breaths as she ran through what she'd planned to say and tried to figure out how to start. It was harder than she thought, and when it felt like minutes had passed and she still hadn't said a word, she sighed. "I wish this wasn't over the phone."

"Do you want to come to London?" he asked. "I promise no hotel this time."

"No, I… I don't want to inconvenience you. And I've got something on this week so I can't just fly over there."

"It's not an inconvenience." He was using his slow, reassuring voice, the one that always made her feel better. "I can come to New York? Or even Stars Hollow if that works best for you?"

"I don't know." She hesitated, unsure if she should say what's on the tip of her tongue. "I can't do another goodbye, Logan."

He exhaled loudly. "If you don't want me to come there, you don't want to come here and you can't talk to me on the phone, I don't know what I can do, Rory."

"Neither do I," she said, collapsing back onto her bed and scowling up at the ceiling. "I don't know much of _anything_ these days. Wait, no, that's not true. I know I'm not moving out of Stars Hollow anytime soon. I know I'm writing and editing a paper that prints the same poem every week and no actual news at all. I know I can't write my book because whenever I start typing, I forget every word that's ever been invented because _of course,_ I can't write about my mom, because it turns out I don't understand her at all." Logan interrupted, but she didn't listen. She couldn't stop now. "I mean, she gets pregnant, leaves home and gets her life together and how did she _do_ that? I couldn't - I can't - do that. I'm not done doing stuff for me."

"Is that all you know?"

"No." Rory closed her eyes, took in a deep breath. "I, uh, also know I'm getting an abortion next week."

Another deep breath. She felt a strange mix of relief - because it was finally out there, someone finally knew - and dread. Logan's silence was too long, more uncomfortable than usual.

"You're getting an-" He stopped, swallowed, and tried again. "You're…"

"Yeah. For a few more days and then…" She knew she shouldn't keep talking, that she should give him time to process what the bomb she'd just dropped on him, but now that the words were out there, she had to say everything. "It was an easier decision than I thought it would be. But I can't have a baby. I'm not ready for a baby, I don't really _want_ a baby, and even if I did, it's not a good time. My life's a mess. I haven't done what I want to do, whatever that is. I mean, what would I do if I _didn't_ get an abortion? Beg Taylor for a pay rise at the Gazette or get a different, better-paid job just for the money, regardless of if I actually want to do it? Stay in Stars Hollow forever because I couldn't leave, because I couldn't do it by myself. And that's not even including the fact that you're getting married and you live on the other side of the ocean, so even if you wanted to be involved, it wouldn't be easy and-"

"It's mine?"

"Yes. Yes, it's yours," she said quickly, hurt by the question. Not that she could really blame him for asking - he'd known of Paul, but she'd never really made it clear how that relationship rarely led to anything more exciting than a meal out. Logan had Odette and, in return, she let him come to his own conclusions about her and Paul. (And now, he didn't even know they'd broken up. She hadn't told him, even though she'd wanted to.) "Of course, it's yours."

He sighed. Rory tightened her grip on her phone, waiting for him to say something. "Why did you call, Rory?"

"I told you. Because you're the one I want to talk to."

"And what do you want me to say?" he asked. He was angry, his tone biting, and Rory had to press her lips together to stop herself from crying. She wanted reassurance and a discussion, not this. "Do you want me to tell you that you're making the right decision? That you're right and it would be difficult and that I wouldn't drop everything to be with you and our child? That I'd still get married and live in London? I can't do that. I can't… Rory, you can't just spring this conversation on me! You can't just tell me that you're pregnant and it's mine and you're having an abortion next week and then expect me to-" Another pause, another sigh. "I can't do this right now."

"Logan, please!"

He hung up.

For five minutes, Rory held her phone up and waited for him to call her back. He wouldn't leave it like that - he _couldn't_ \- but when the minutes ticked by and he didn't contact her again, she started to worry that maybe she'd finally asked too much of him.

When she called him again, it was the first time he didn't answer.

She threw her phone to the end of the bed, watching dispassionately as it bounced a couple of time on the mattress before falling to the floor. She stared in its direction, not that she could see it from her position on the bed, and then she rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.

Rory stayed like that for a while, splitting her time between repressing the need to pick her phone back up and try him again - because, of course, when Logan refused to answer her calls, the only person she wanted to talk to about it was him - and having boredom naps.

It was only when she heard Luke and Lorelai moving around the kitchen that she ventured out of her room, picking her phone up on her way out.

"Hey, kid," Lorelai said the moment she saw her. "Were you sleeping?"

"Not really." Rory watched as her mother took a bite of a donut, undoubtedly from Luke's. "You didn't happen to bring me a coffee back from the diner, did you?"

"I didn't think you'd want one."

Rory scowled, shooting a quick, wary look at Luke's back to see if he'd heard her mom's comment. He didn't appear to. "I guess I'll just have to make some. There's nothing like caffeine to wake you up after an afternoon nap."

"A nap?" Luke asked, turning from the stove to glance over Rory. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just not sleeping well recently," she said, moving around the kitchen to reach the coffee beans. "Don't worry, Luke."

"Well, if you're not sleeping," Lorelai interjected, her voice at the slightly higher-pitched tone she used she was saying one thing but really meant something else. "Maybe caffeine isn't a good idea? Us Gilmore's may have a higher resistance than others, but - and it feels like sacrilege to say this - it's not always the right time for coffee."

"There's decaf in the cupboard." Luke gestured somewhere near Rory. "I don't think it's ever been opened."

"And it's going to stay that way. It's caffeine I want right now." She had only just grabbed the beans from the cupboard when her cell vibrated, and she abandoned the coffee on the counter to look at who was calling. Logan. "On second thought, alcohol."

If the end of their last phone call was any indication, she'd need some.

It seemed to be physically paining Lorelai not to say anything as Rory poured herself a generous glass of Scotch. "Rory-"

"Sorry, I have to take this," she said before her mom could say anything incriminating or judgemental. "If I'm still talking when dinner's ready, just eat without me."

By the time she got back to her room, her phone wasn't ringing but this time, when she called him, he answered almost instantly.

"Hey," she said quietly, leaning back against the headboard and watching the ripples in the Scotch as she moved the glass.

"Hey." She smiled, the calm of his voice a stark contrast to the way he'd sounded hours earlier. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hung up earlier and I should have answered when you called again. I wasn't expecting such a conversation and I know I didn't react the way you wanted me to."

"No, no, it's fine," Rory said quickly. "It was a lot to process and I didn't really build up to it very well. I shouldn't have just dropped it on you like that."

"It was a bit of a surprise," he agreed, a short chuckle following the words. "It would have been a surprise to hear from you whatever you had to say. Add in everything else and, well, does it really matter how I feel about it? How are you?"

"You can't guess?"

"I'd put a few hundred on 'not great'."

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!" She took a long sip of her Scotch, although it felt far less necessary now that they were talking. "I don't have a few hundred dollars on hand, but can I interest you in a bottle of Scotch? I know from experience that it helps when you're given this sort of news. Takes the edge off."

"I already have one open but I'm not going to say no if it comes with good company."

"Anyone particular in mind?"

"You know who I want."

Rory took another, longer, sip. The conversation was nice - light and teasing and _not_ what she wanted. "Logan…"

He sighed. "So how long have you known?"

"About three weeks. Maybe four."

A few seconds silence. "And how long have you known what you want to about it?"

"About three weeks."

"Maybe four?" He couldn't see it, but she nodded anyway. "Look, Rory, I want to say the right thing here but I don't know what you want from me. Some last minute additions to the pro-con list? An opposing side on the 'to keep or not to keep' debate?"

"I don't want either of those," she admitted, his relieved exhale more comforting than she could have expected. "I know what I'm doing. I know what I want."

He hesitated. Rory listened to him take a few breaths before he finally spoke. "Okay, good," he said. "I guess that's good. You're right. About it not being a good time, not about me. Maybe if things were different…"

Rory bit her lip, closed her eyes. She didn't want to think of the possibilities, of how things would be different if she'd said yes all those years earlier, or admitted what she wanted when they reunited in Hamburg (him, always him), because that was all they were. Possibilities.

"But they're not."

"No," he murmured. "They're not."

She took another long sip of her Scotch, listening to the quiet sounds of cutlery against plates and murmured conversation as her mom and Luke had dinner. "I know I was wrong about you," she said. "I kept thinking of all the ways having a baby would be terrible and it spiralled out of control and you not being there, that was one of the worst things I could think of."

Yet another drawn out silence and then, "When is it?"

"Tuesday morning. Ten past eleven."

"I'll be there," Logan said. "If you want me to be."

"Yeah." She choked on the word, emotions overwhelming her at his offer. "Yeah, I want you to be."

"And after, you could come to London? It sounds like you need a break from Stars Hollow, so you should come stay with me. This might be what you want, but that doesn't mean you should have to deal with it alone."

"I wasn't going to," she said. "I was going to stay at Paris' afterwards, although I didn't really plan on telling her… everything. I'm not really meant to drive for a few hours afterwards, and I don't think I'll want to come straight back here anyway, so I figured I'd stay in New York for a couple of days and then-"

"Or you could stay with me. I'll book a room at the Plaza, we'll stay there a couple of nights and then we'll fly back to London. First class."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Logan," she said regretfully, finishing her glass of Scotch with one final long sip. She wished she could agree, more than anything, but she'd ended things for a reason. They'd said goodbye for a reason, and her getting an abortion didn't change that. "What about Odette?"

"Odette doesn't matter." It was a statement that probably demanded more of an explanation, but Rory didn't care. She could find excuse after excuse not to see him again or to return with him, but she didn't want to. "Please, Rory."

"Okay."

After that, the conversation took a more light-hearted turn. Rory picked up a plate of food from the kitchen and retreated back to her room and to Logan. There was so much she hadn't been able to tell him since their night in New Hampshire, and so much about his life he hadn't told her, and they tried to cover all of it. She told him about Luke and Lorelai's wedding and the multiple flash mobs, he told her about a few business trips he'd made.

When she woke up the following morning to a text from him that read 'Morning, Ace', it felt like at least one part of her life was finally going the way it was supposed to. (It wasn't, not really, not when there was still Odette and an ocean and a baby, but it felt like maybe soon?)

They kept in constant contact over the next few days, texting throughout the day and talking on the phone once he'd arrived in New York and settled in his hotel.

Early Tuesday morning, Rory told Lorelai she was going to stay with Paris for a few days and then drove to New York. She left her car parked at Paris' house (as planned, although she still owed Paris a lengthy explanation for exactly why her car needed to stay with them but she didn't) and travelled into Manhattan.

They met in a Starbucks. He kissed her on the cheek when she arrived and offered to buy her breakfast, but she had to say no, explaining that she didn't think she was meant to eat beforehand. Instead, she sat and watched as Logan picked at a Pain Au Chocolat, distracting both of them from thoughts of the appointment they were about to go to by starting a discussion on Westworld theories.

Several hours later, they were back in his hotel suite and she wasn't pregnant anymore.

He ordered room service, and the two of them ate burgers and fries while watching Home Alone (a movie which made Rory feel even more at her ease with her decision than she already did). He went to get her chocolate and returned with that plus a fluffy hot water bottle.

She curled up with it, the hot water bottle resting on her stomach, and once he'd changed into his pyjamas, he joined her on the bed. She moved just enough to let him sit beside her, his back against the headboard, and then she cuddled into his side. His arm settled across her shoulder, fingers tangled in the ends of her hair, her head resting against his chest.

"How are you?" Logan asked quietly, just as she was starting to drift to sleep.

"I'm okay," she said, glancing briefly up at him. He was frowning, his hand running gently through her hair. "Logan, I don't regret it, if that's what you really wanted to ask, but that doesn't mean it's been an easy day. I'm just really happy you're here. It would have been harder alone."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

She moved her hand from his chest to wipe her eyes, stopping the tears before they fell. She didn't feel on the verge of crying - she was calmer than she'd been in weeks - but her emotions had been unpredictable lately, and after the day she'd had, she wasn't surprised if tears were coming more easily than usual.

"I missed this," she said quietly, her voice catching when she felt him kiss the top of her head. "You. I missed you."

His chest rose and fell beneath her as he took in a deep breath, his hand pausing with her hair twisted around his fingers. His other hand nudged at her chin, tilting her head up so she was looking up at him. "Rory, can I-?"

She knew what he wanted to ask and interrupted him before he could. "Please."

The kiss was soft and slow. His hand left her chin, stroking her cheek before cradling her head. Rory curled her fingers into his t-shirt, holding him to her as his lips moved over hers.

It was the only kiss they shared that night, but once it finished, they didn't move apart. She stayed in his arms, the cooling water bottle trapped between their torsos, and they slept.

She went back to London with him.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I do have a few more ideas for future chapters of this fic but that depends on whether or not people want more (and if I have time between the vigilante!AU, working on cosplay and Mass Effect: Andromeda) but this was a scenario that I wanted to explore because I haven't really seen it in any fics. I might end up just posting short headcanons on my tumblr (which, for Gilmore Girls, is hntzberger)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the fic!


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